


The Young Lion

by Herbrarian



Series: New Orders [4]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Armor, Backstory, Cullen Appreciation Week 2017, Fur Ruff, Gen, Grand Cathedral, Lion of Ferelden, Templar Order, Val Royeaux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-18 00:24:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7292158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herbrarian/pseuds/Herbrarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Previously: Cullen has left Kirkwall behind and, as he and the Divine’s most trusted advisors know, also the Order. Now, he must define his place and his new orders.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Young Lion

“It’s fur, Lady Seeker.”

Cullen eyes the armor stand. The armor itself is beautiful. Silverite inlaid with Summer Stone that gleams softly in the subtle light in the room; in full sunlight it will shine with a commanding presence. The breastplate is not a solid piece, like the Templar armor he currently wears. It is interlaced with multiple pieces so that it will be more comfortable to a field general, and obviously is not meant for a first-line foot solider. The pauldrons are massive—nothing compared to the Templar armor he wears now, of course—but it seems their entire purpose is to display the fur ruff that surrounds the gorget.

“Most Holy noticed that your current armor is fatiguing. She knows your shifts in the Tower would have been more controlled than the schedule you must keep here.”

The whole suit is meant to be worn over leathers, he sees, and not his ever-constant mail. It will be a great deal more comfortable, he notes with gratitude. Cullen shifts his head, his hand on the only indication of the Order on it, a simple drape of the Templar seal that hangs below the belt. “This was her commission, then?”

“Yes. I worked up the design myself to her specifications. That,” the Seeker points to the emblem in his hands, “will be able to be removed, should the time come.”

Cullen arches an eyebrow, “And the fur?”

The Seeker scowls at him, “You should look Ferelden Most Holy said,” and she stands with her arms crossed, as if that explains everything.

Cullen doesn’t know how to respond, but cannot stop himself from answering, his voice oddly high-pitched: “Is it possible for me to look otherwise?” as he gestures at his face.

The Seeker sighs loudly, “You should look like neither the Order,” she gestures to his Templar armor, “nor the Chantry,” and gestures to her own armor with the Seeker emblem blazing from the breast plate.

“I see. That is sensible. And the fur?” he persists.

The Seeker makes a noise of disgust. “It is supposed to be a mane. Most Holy thinks of you as her young lion, because you … _brood_.”

“ _I_ brood?” Cullen looks incredulously at the Seeker who is shifting from foot to foot, a blush heating her cheekbones.

“Yes,” she bites out.

“Okay. But how will people know that? Andraste’s knickers,” a look of horror crosses his face, “she isn’t going to give me that as a title is she?”

The Seeker snorts, “No.” She looks at him with a sly grin: “Worse. There is a helmet.”

Cullen’s mouth goes dry as Cassandra pulls out a helmet from a box on the floor he had not noticed. The face guard is the snout of a lion. She holds it out to him and gives it a little shake, making the tassel on top shimmy. He takes the helmet from her. He does not expect the weight of it and nearly drops it. Cullen hears her snort of laughter.

Before he can say anything he will regret, she says, “I believe I have convinced Most Holy that you only need to wear it in processions when you sit a horse. But that you should leave it off when you are simply in attendance on her, which is most of the time. You will have to leave it sitting out on your desk for all to see, however.”

“Thank you,” Cullen shakes his head in stunned agreement, “for that.”

She nods briskly and turns to a table behind her where there is a long, slender, wooden box. “These, however, were my idea and my welcome gift to you.”

She holds out the box to him. He notices an emblem embossed into the box lid which bears the merchant appointment seal of the Crown of Ferelden. He puts aside the helmet on the table, glad to be rid of it for a moment, and opens the lid as she holds the box aloft to him.

Inside is a pair of daggers. He picks one up and notices immediately the balance and solid weight of the tool.

“These are beautiful, Lady Seeker. I have little training with short blades, but I will try to be worthy of them.”

“There are times, Cullen,” she looks him in the eye, “where you cannot wear a sword in the presence of the Divine. That is when she most needs us, our protection. You will find sheathes for these incorporated into your new armor: one in your right boot and one that lies at the small of your back.” She hesitates for a breath and then continues: “Most Holy is not aware I changed her specifications,” she states significantly into the silence.

“You’ve protected her alone in this way?” he asks in sympathy.

She barks a laugh, “Hardly. This, as well as my own, was originally the idea of the Nightingale. As her welcome, Leliana will arrange some time with her for you to privately learn your way around the daggers.”

Cullen nods slowly. He has spent little time with the Left Hand by choice. He remembers her too well and does not succeed in deceiving himself that she does not remember him just as vividly.

Cassandra shuts the lids of the box with a snap. “You will discuss Kinloch with her and get it out of the way.”

It is not a request from the Lady Seeker, but an order.

“Of course, Lady Seeker.”

“Cassandra, Cullen.” She grips his arm at the elbow in her hand in familiar shake of welcome, a salutation of comrades. “We are all the Most Holy has, so we are family: ‘The Light shall shine upon all of creation, If we are only strong enough to carry it.’”

"May the Maker find us whole," he returns.

**Author's Note:**

> Create Order #15  
> For more on this story's creation, checkout [Appendix, Chapter 6](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6612037/chapters/18520750)


End file.
